Kith and Kin
by The.Vee
Summary: To protect the sister and brother that she loved so much, she had forsaken her guild to carry the consequences of a crime. After serving twelve years in prison, Selika McGarden has returned to Fairy Tail to see that it was not just her guild that changed, but its people as well. [Rated M for violence/gore and possible citrus-y moments]
1. Before We End

_Hello! First long-term FanFic here, and I'm really nervous but I seriously hope that people like it!_

_*I didn't mention in the summary that this is a **GaLe**, **LaMi**, **NaLu**, **Gruvia**, Baccana, ElfEver, Bixana, Jerza (unsure because he may or may not appear in this FanFic altogether), etc. etc. FanFic... the bold ones will probably be more prominent than the other ones..._

_I am planning on pairing my OC with Gildarts...so if you possessively love Gildarts, I dunno how you'll feel about this Fic ;3_

**Kith and Kin**

_Prologue Part 1: Before We End_

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><p><em>X772<em>

She could hear them calling her name, hoping that she would return their searching yells, but Levy's body refused to respond. At five-years-old, she didn't understand why her tongue couldn't work, why she couldn't stop shivering, and why, as hard as she tried, she couldn't stop crying. Only moments before, she had adamantly rejected the idea of shedding tears, but now the flood flowing down her cheeks couldn't be dammed.

Distantly, someone spotted her and rushed to her, cradling her in their arms as their voice thundered her location. Soon, several other members of Fairy Tail spilled into the huddle of trees in front of the small cavern where she had laid for what seemed like hours. She recognized the orange strands her savior's hair. "Gilly?"

"It's alright, Levy," Gildarts assured her, "Everything's alright."

She heard her sister's brother's voice when Laxus asked, "Where's Selika?"

"Selly?" At the sound of her sister's name, Levy jolted forward as she remembered the screaming—that _horrible _screeching that had pierced Levy's ears until she had thought that they bled. She instinctively raised her hands to her ears and compressed her head, hoping to block out the noise of the people who had howled their pain. Levy knew that their screams had been torn from their throats because Selly had—

A cry ripped from her own throat as Levy recalled the reason for why her sister had tucked her away, within a cave formed by thick roots of several adjacent trees. Laxus had been sent away, back to the guild for help.

Help that hadn't arrived on time.

Levy continued to scream into the haze of her vision, as she felt the eyes of too many people on her. There had also been so many people surrounding her in the clearing before their house, when the three of them had arrived in the twilight hours of the night. And when Selly had shielded her and Laxus from their attacks, there had been _so much_—

The five-year-old grit her teeth at the reminder of what had happened within the last hour; she barely perceived the stinging numbness of her gums from the heavy pressure. Gildarts looked at her with a concerned expression, and stroked her hair in repeated caresses, attempting to provide comforting words that would quiet her voice and her thoughts. But Levy continued to scream, for the man could not compare to the gentle touches and the berceuse voice of her older sister.

"Levy!" The girl didn't register the yell, but looked up anyways, seeing the two boys who had declared themselves her best friends. Both Jet and Droy ran to her, tripping and stumbling over the large roots that were slithered across the forest floor. While Jet hurled himself at her for a reassuring hug, Droy hesitated when looked at her. His eyes widened as he pointed to her hands. "What happened?" he asked.

When she lowered her eyes to her recognizably charred hands, the flashbacks that she had managed to hold back before, suddenly erupted in blurred bursts of blood within her mind. Her mother's haunting expression clear in her mind for one, single moment, and then the image of her mother face down in a pool of red—red that was _everywhere_. Its vibrancy had splattered across the clearing's grass, almost as if it was trying to imitate the festive coloring of Christmas.

But the presence of Levy's mother had been no gift.

* * *

><p>Gildarts had no idea what to do when the tiny kid in his arms rocked herself back and forth, wailing an indescribable sound while digging her nails into her scalp. Those precious strands of her sky-colored hair became streaked with blood from her tender, bleeding palms, and he had to gently restrain her arms in order to keep her from infecting her wounds. One of her female friends, Laki, tried her best to keep the other girl calm—a six-year-old calming a five-year-old.<p>

Porlyusica would have his helpless hide if Levy caused more injuries to herself.

At the thought of Fairy Tail's provisional healer in addition to the sight of the frightened girl in front of him, Gildarts hoped that Porlyusica was hurrying to their location at the fastest speed there was. And if she wasn't, it would be she—old age be damned—who would be a patient of her own.

It wasn't just because he wanted Levy McGarden to have a fast and comfortable recovery; he wanted to join the search for the girl's older sister. His comrade was only a few weeks from being an eighteen-year-old, and though she was entirely capable of handling herself, she was still only a kid.

Especially in comparison to his thirty-three years of age.

He tamped down the thoughts of their spacial age difference. Though Selika was often considered older than her actual appearance, they were still sixteen years apart; sixteen years too late and sixteen years too early for each other. While her finer feelings were sometimes visible for the world to see, his own were only released in his darkest hours.

The hours in which he guiltily thought of Cornelia, and how he missed her despite the feelings he had begun to reluctantly nurture for his fellow guild member.

Occasionally he wished that the said member would confide more in him, but somehow, despite the lack of confidence, Gildarts trusted her. He trusted Selika with every fiber of his life, and he was certain that each breath that he took was one that she was willing to take for him if it ever came down to that necessity.

He would do the same for her.

From the corner of his eye, Gildarts noticed a mixture of pink, red, and green, as in accordance with Porlyusica's appearance. Though the aged healer arrived in a fitful of grumbles and curses, Porlyusica silenced her mutterings as she assessed the damage wrecked on the kid. A few of the other guild members had gathered around her as she inspected Levy, and although she eventually ushered them away, for the first observed time, she did so _politely_.

Because it had been so distinguishably odd, Fairy Tail members stood in awe for several moments until the medic growled for them to move. As people hastened to leave her line of sight, Porlyusica's face seemed to waver between the emotions of anger, despair, and uncertainty. She murmured something to Master in a tone too low for him to hear, but the shocked widening of Makarov's eyes told Gildarts that the kid's condition wasn't any good.

He ground his teeth at the thought of the death of a little girl he had known for just over three years. It had been worrying enough to hear that Levy and Selika had been attacked but it was downright cruel to be surprised with the possibility that Levy might not recover from it.

Gildarts had no idea how Selika would take the news but he imagined that all of Fiore would be in danger until she hunted down the people who dared to hurt her family, and communicated her wrath in the most violent of manners. Because if there was anything that Selika was before everything, it was a sister who didn't know how to be anyone else.

He heard his name, and focused his attention on Porlyusica's softly wrinkled face. She snapped at him until he gave a sign of recognition in the form of a confused noise from the bottom of his throat. The woman nodded her head towards a suddenly unconscious Levy. "Give this kid your cloak and get her some proper clothing!"

For a moment he hesitated, distracted by the way that her glare was somewhat different from the one that she commonly gave all and any human. Somehow it made her features appear not as harsh as when she usually pulled her face into that familiar expression.

Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop to think about them. "Shouldn't Laxus get them?"

"Then find him, and get to it!" Those were the last words that the woman seemed to be willing to spare him, and with a final huff she fully turned her attention to Levy while conferring with Makarov on the side.

Gildarts quickly glanced around them as he realized that the eleven-year-old wasn't among the guild members who had come in search of the McGarden girls. There was no doubt in his mind that the boy had went in search of his older sister, once Levy had been confirmed to be safe. With a sigh, he set off in the direction of Selika's home, hoping to encounter him on the way.

Laxus had been at the guild since the time that Ivan had arrived with a bundle of two-month-old joy tucked in his arms—the only time Gildarts had ever seen him act fatherly towards his son. Most of the man's time was spent away from the guild, in various towns and sometimes faraway countries without a word to Makarov or Laxus.

Or Selika.

As Gildarts gathered, Selika and Laxus shared the same father, while Levy and Selika shared the same mother. There was no apparent relation between Selika's siblings, other than herself. He supposed that was the reason for why she had done her best to serve them in every way that they needed her; an all-in-one sister.

He remembered the day on which a fifteen-year-old girl, dirtied and scratched, arrived to stay at Fairy Tail. She had declared it to Ivan and Makarov with a fierce fervor that hadn't matched her emotionless face, while holding her younger sister's hand within her own. Laxus had been ecstatic for that entire day, following both of the McGardens to every nook and cranny of Magnolia. At the time, Gildarts had been assigned as their guide to look for either an apartment or a home since neither Laxus nor Levy had wished to part with Selika, as would be required at Fairy Hills.

The man froze as he stepped into the clearing set before the house.

Their perfect home had been a mangled bungalow hidden at the edgy outskirts of the town. He admitted to have laughed at first sight of it, and claimed that the place was practically uninhabitable with its torn floors, broken windows, and endless lengths of ivy rooted throughout the entirety of the house. Even the forest surrounding it seemed to threaten the its demise as trees caved in and around its patchy roof; one area already had several tree limbs sticking through it.

But Gildarts had eaten those words on the day after Selika purchased the house.

When he had visited, the disaster had been repaired, washed out, and reborn. Though the siblings had left the ivy that covered the outside walls, and a tree that stood within the house itself, they had ripped out the rest of the plants. The scattered glass pieces from the smashed windows had been glued back together after they had been individually painted with transparent, colored polish with the finished product of what appeared to be stained-glass windows.

Even as people questioned how three children had managed to remake it in just a single day, the house was viewed as a remarkable miracle created at the hands of genius. People from town—whether they were from Fairy Tail or not—felt obliged to donate their old furniture, tools, and utensils in order to contribute to the trio's survival. Somehow the house's interior appeared cozy with all of its mismatched and assorted accessories.

But without anyone inside, lighting up its rooms with candles, it seemed uncomfortably depressing.

And fairly recent addition of blood made the house look haunted.

Gildarts covered his mouth and nose as the stench of rotting flesh rose to his senses, and stepped around what he assumed was now a graveyard. Except, despite what his nose had deduced, he could see no bodies; nothing besides grass, the house, and red puddles.

Brushing aside the question, he forged his way to the house, avoiding the blood. Beneath his boots, he heard light squelches and an occasional crunch, but thought nothing of it until his foot landed on something too slippery to stay upright upon. Heading straight into a puddle, Gildarts braced himself with his hands and forearms.

And felt more than just the wetness of the blood.

He unwillingly yelped as he snatched his hands away—away from the mixture of blood, bone, and baggy skin. Gildarts couldn't hold back his stomach as he saw that his movement had flung other pieces of human matter out onto the grass nearby; a part of an eye and something that he could barely make out to be an _ear_.

It was almost as if he had needed to get to ground level in order to see the dispersed pieces of human; he couldn't tell how many people were spread out on the field with him, but he didn't doubt that there were quite a few. From their condition, he couldn't tell their ages or their numbers—all he could tell was that they were simply dead meat.

And that it could be possible that Selika was among them.

He heaved at the thought.

As he coughed up his vomit for a second time, and spat out the bile that remained in his mouth, he refused to wipe away his mouth with the back of his hand; the blood of others wasn't a great thing to put near one's mouth.

There was a river, somewhere behind the house; Gildarts hoisted himself up to find it, only to fall from the shearing pain that cut through his ankle. More blood splattered over himself and the grass around him. He growled at his unfortunate luck when he realized that the joint was sprained.

He went from tree to tree to support himself, leaving streaks of red as his fingers slipped along each strip of bark that passed their way. It wasn't until he reached his fifth tree that he noticed that several leaves of low hanging branches were also coated with blood and bent in unnatural ways in the same direction—as if someone had passed by in a hurry.

Gildarts quickened his pace, ignoring the frequent spikes of pain that stabbed along his leg. He had to see if it was _her_ or if it was her murderer.

If it was the latter, Gildarts would kill the bastard or the bitch. Whichever gender the killer was, he would do everything to destroy the person who dared to—

The trees opened up just as quick as he walked through them, falling on his knees due to lack of an available crutch. He bit back a curse as impact rippled its consequences throughout his body, and did his best to hold up his head to the figure who stood before him, facing the river that gushed water in its current's fast streams.

By the cerulean length of her hair, and the militant stiffness that was always prominent from her back, Gildarts knew that it was her. Though her clothing was bloodied and her tights were ripping themselves apart as though they were suicidal, she stood as straight and proud as she usually was.

Selika.

* * *

><p>When he had awakened that morning, he had been assailed with a premonition. It had clung onto his shoulders; refusing to be forgotten, even as he tried to ignore it.<p>

And now he paid for it.

"What is her condition?" The question came out of his throat too hoarsely, as if his grim expression didn't already convey his emotions concerning one of the youngest members of his guild. He didn't care that the question was nearly pointless; Makarov Dreyar would prefer to know the flat-out truth anyways.

The healer pursed her lips tightly before she reached for her broom and flung it upwards, handle first. It shifted its direction without guidance, flying towards its owner's home in a flash.

Before Makarov could say another word, the object returned with several items attached to its straw. Porlyusica seized a bottle of clear fluid and popped its cork open with her teeth as she grabbed a roll of bandages and unwound some of its gauzy material before handing the roll to Makarov. He didn't repeat his question until she spat away the cork from her lips.

She replied under her breath, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "This is no wound I can repair."

"What?"

"Her hands are not burned, Makarov," she whispered as she poured one of her potions onto Levy's palms. "And I don't know why they're blackened, but—" In her sleep, the girl shifted and the small whimper that escaped her mouth skewered the guild master with more guilt.

He pushed the excess down, and focused on the child's hands as Porlyusica pointed out something significant about them. As the woman washed the blood and grime away, Makarov could make out the faint imprint of—

"Runes?" he asked, perceiving the affirming nod without looking at the healer beside him. His brow furrowed as he asked neither to himself nor Porlyusica, "Why would a Solid Script mage need to cast runes on themselves?"

His former team member was silent as she told him, "Those runes aren't for ordinary usage."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Listen, I've seen these runes before." She wet her dry lips before she told him, "Precht had once been studying them when he was guild master." She looked straight into his eyes when she said, "These are from a Black Arts book, Makarov."

The man stiffened at both _his_ master's name, and the idea that the man he revered could possibly be dealing in a matter that had any connection to the Black Arts and in turn, Zeref. He tried to keep his voice contained, but he couldn't control his growl. "Are you insinuating that a former guild master of Fairy Tail was a Black Mage?"

Her voice was clear when she boldly admitted, "Yes."

For a second Makarov was stunned by her confidence. He had always thought that Porlyusica had respected Precht Gaebolg as much as he had, and that she had maintained that respect after the man had left them. How dare she attempt to trample on their guild master's memory. "You can't possibly believe that."

Indignation flashed across her face as she bound Levy's hands, covering up the markings the both of them were arguing over. "I saw it with my own two eyes, so _yes, _I believe that."

"Then you saw wrong," he said, turning away from Porlyusica in order to shield her from the anger that was prevalent in his face, if not already in his tone. He heard nothing from her for several moments, and by then he had already reigned in his emotions and brought his attention back to the child laid before them.

He didn't expect her to say, "This is why you married Lereda."

Time seemed to stop when she finally let loose a matter that they had both tried to forget; a matter he believed that he already had forgotten, after all these years. Makarov had loved his wife, just as much as he had once loved the pink-haired healer—he had made sure to shower Lereda with all the happiness that she could have had in the fifteen years that their marriage had lasted.

"I would have married Lereda anyways." The words had slipped out before he had been able to contain them, and he didn't need to look at Porlyusica to tell that she was hurt by those words. Even if the woman didn't wear her heart upon her sleeve, he could tell by the silence his words met, that pain was present within her.

The both of them were freed from their seconds of awkwardness when Levy stirred in her drugged sleep, and let out a frightening yell. "Selly! No, Selly, don't do it! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" Porlyusica waved a potion beneath the girl's nose, and after a few more distraught whispers, Levy drifted back off to sleep.

"Makarov," Porlyusica whispered, breaking their silence. "What secrets has your granddaughter hidden from us?"

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><p>AN: Okay...this is the first part of the prologue, as suggested by the title...so more in a little bit

BTW, the house is supposed to be Natsu and Happy's house :] before they moved in, anyways...that's why there are some differences...like the ivy...and the stained-glass

Please PM me if you want some clarification on how the whole Selika-Laxus-Levy family, because I feel like I didn't really describe it all that much in this first prologue part...

Reviews and constructive criticism would be much appreciated, and please PM me if you'd like to know something about Kith and Kin


	2. After We Begin

**Kith and Kin**

_Prologue Part 2: After We Begin_

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><p><em>X784<em>

Laxus nodded to Mirajane Strauss as he sat at a bar stool, and she quickly slid him a mug filled to the brim with foam and beer. The amber liquid sloshed as he intercepted the thankful drink and chugged hard.

The silver haired woman returned to idily conversing with Gajeel's cat, the morning's newspaper laid out in front of them on the counter. They didn't mention his name, out of respect to his ears, but he didn't need to look at the headline or listen to their words to know who and what they were talking about.

Most of Magnolia was tuned onto the same frequency anyways. The stares from his fellow guild members and the people on the streets he walked on, had ceased to make him uncomfortable, though he knew that Levy was still having a harder time dealing with it. She had already skipped town with her team, hoping to avoid the questions and the gossip that he could readily handle in her place.

Laxus thought back to twelve years before, in the aftermath of the incident that Selika had made. He unconsciously touched his face, fingering the scar that went down his right eye as he remembered what had happened for him to receive it.

He called to Mira for a refill that would help him forget the memory.

Despite the alcohol, the twenty-three-year-old couldn't wipe out the recollection of how the guild had been after Selika's self-excommunication. Everyone had initially been worried for Gildarts, who had been declared missing after Laxus had described how his own sister had shoved the man into the river nearby their house.

Then Porlyusica had trumped his bad news with her own, when she officially stated that Levy could potentially never recover from whatever injuries she sustained—injuries that she admitted to have no cure for. Jet and Droy had excluded themselves from the guild when those words had been given, refusing to leave Levy's side while she rested in Porlyusica's home. Even the old woman hadn't had the heart to rid them after the two kept returning to keep vigil.

There still hadn't been much of a relief when Giildarts had been found downstream, miles away from his original location. The residents of Hargeon had rescued him after he had drifted into the mouth of their end of the river, days after being thought dead. He had had an injured ankle and water-clogged lungs, but even after a severe run-in with pneumonia, the man had been physically fine.

But he had left Fairy Tail immediately after healing, requesting time to be away and simply alone. A request that guild members, back then, had understood well due to the belief in his close relationship with his partner.

Laxus wondered how his disappearance was viewed now. Probably as cowardly as Levy's own departure was seen by almost all townspeople, except for those who remembered who Selika was.

Some had hated her immediately because she had brought suspicion and a temporary bad reputation to Fairy Tail—her name spreading to become the stereotype for the town's previously beloved guild for a few years. Their father's excommunication hadn't helped matters either; the act had forced Makarov to simmer in silent shame for some years before he could show his face with pride for his guild once again.

Laxus couldn't blame the geezer for that; after all, he had contributed to that humiliation. First his granddaughter, then his son, and finally his grandson—the guild master's entire family—had been forced to leave the guild at one time or another. Now that he thought of it, it was something like a rite-of-passage; one that Laxus wished that he had never needed to do, in order to stay at _his_ guild.

"Laxus?" Mira stood in front of him, rubbing away at a stain on a glass mug in her hands. Her face was marred with concern, and he looked away—his eyes landing on a mess of brown hair that was sleepily slouched over a barrel.

Cana had been the first of the new arrivals to join the guild; she came just two months after Gildarts left, looking about as lost as she truly was. Two years later it had been Gray who had arrived with a misplaced expression stretched across his face, dubiously scrutinizing everything that moved. Another two years and it had been Scarlet in their place, then eventually Natsu and the Strauss siblings.

This year alone had provided new additions of Lucy, Gajeel, Juvia, and Wendy.

He looked to the brown cat who sat on the counter nearby, speaking in a hushed tone to Mira while sipping on something green and fruity. Within a few months, so much had happened to Fairy Tail, nonetheless twelve years. Cats had been sworn in and marked with the guild symbol; dragon slayers had appeared, unintentionally wreaking havoc on everything; some people had left, some had joined, and others had risen from the dead.

Laxus caught a shy glance from a blue-haired dragon slayer, sitting near her own Exceed while she bubbled away in talking with Juvia. The girl looked away before there could be anything but curiosity to be determined by the little peep.

Kids like Wendy were replacing Fairy Tail's ranks, and Laxus was grateful for that—the recovering, despite all the loss.

At the word, Laxus ground his teeth and lifted his mug to his mouth as he remembered his losses; the ones that began with his sister leaving holes in everyone's mind as to why she had murdered twenty-six people and attempted to murder one more, on the night she had deserted the guild. Not a single person in Fairy Tail hadn't wished she would return just for the sole purpose of letting them tear her apart.

It seemed as though even that wouldn't have been recompense for the suffocating sense of betrayal that had surfaced when Gildarts had been thought dead; for when Levy would randomly scream their sister's name, unable to stop until Porlyusica silenced her with potions; for when Makarov had worn a fake smile for an entire year because the loss of family was never supposed to steal happiness from the world._  
><em>

But it had.

His drink was empty.

Laxus slammed down the mug and left it on the bar while he stood and turned away from Mira as she accepted his glass and his unnerving silence. The Raijinshu quietly followed him from their own table, tracing his footsteps as he made his way out of the guild.

A place that would remind him of his sister, far too much.

* * *

><p><em>Her hands. They had held her siblings, dried their tears, wiped their faces when smeared with the sweet cake frosting of Magnolia's Cake Shop on a splurge she would often allow, in celebration of a completed mission as a way of making up for the short time she was away. They had battled monsters of the imagination, enlightened the dark of night with self-made stars, and defended those whom she loved so dearly.<em>

_But they had never been so soaked with blood, literally and figuratively. Caked in flaky layers of red as though Levy and Laxus had used her hands as a canvas, applying a dark maroon-tipped paintbrush to stroke to her fingers and her palms. _

_Gildarts was begging for her to help him. _

_Selika fought the urge, even though her conscience screamed at the nerves in her fingers as they twitched in hopes that her brain would let them spell the words that were needed to help him. She could write 'air', 'cloud', 'wood', and anything that would come to her mind. __  
><em>

_But she didn't—she couldn't, even if her heart broke at the sight of him yelling her name over and over again as the river's ripping currents carried the man downstream. He caught a tree root that loomed into his path. Tears threatened to escape their ducts, but she held them back as she numbly raised her fingers and murmured words that were lost to the world's most distinguished libraries. _

_As the now animated tree, pulled its root back to its trunk, it flailed hard until Gildarts' hand released its hold on the limb. She forced her eyes to remain open, torturing herself with the sight of her comrade floating away, half-consumed by the river. When he was finally at a distance where she couldn't see him anymore, a dry heave jerked her forward, towards the river. _

_She was tempted to take part in the same fate she bid to Gildarts, but the tree she had given movement, caught her before she could fall into the rapidly rushing river. __She wiped away the spit that had come with her incomplete purge with the back of her hand, ignoring the feel of blood being dampened to its liquid form across her lips. _

**_Sacrifices have to be made_**_, she reminded herself. The words echoed senselessly within her head as she tried to commit herself into believing them. Her heart was still ripped at its seams, and she doubted that there was a chance to repair it now. _

_"Selika?" Her brother's voice caused her heart to jump, but she didn't allow her body to do the same. She turned her head to see Laxus stand there, mouth slightly agape. _

_At first she believed that it had been because of the way she looked; blood was splattered across almost every inch her clothing, slathered into the ends of her hair, and steeped into the skin of her hands. _

_But then she remembered the bodies by their house; the state of the condition she had left them in, pieces __strewn all over the clearing like toys in a playhouse. A playhouse she hadn't meant to build. _

_He interrupted her before she could speak excuses from her opened mouth. "What did you do?"_

_When she didn't give an immediate answer, a fearful look spread across his face before he darted from the direction he had come from. She didn't hesitate in chasing after him. _

_Tree branches whipped at the both of them, snapping as they caught at their clothes. She called his name, not unlike the way that Gildarts had called to her—in the same imploring manner—only to be ignored. _

_Finally, she reached out to tow him back to her —a chance to make him listen—but at her pull, Laxus tripped with a cry, and she tumbled over him before landing flat on her back in a puddle that wouldn't have been there if it hadn't been for her. They had ended up in the clearing, where other people's blood was thickening in their pools.  
><em>

_She lifted herself up to gaze into her brother's face, and widened her eyes at the gash that streaked over his right eye. He held it shut and flinched when she extended her hand to touch it. In an unscrupulous flash of gold that she narrowly missed, Selika felt a twinge of pain from her left cheek. _

_She wasn't as astonished with the fresh wound, incited by her younger sibling, as she was with the fact that he had used magic. He had been born as a pure human—it should have been impossible for him to be capable of wielding magic. _

_Therefore, how had he done it?_

_She was about to voice her question, but her eleven-year-old sibling didn't allow her to, with another cut of lightning skimmed through the air to her, knocking her off her feet and sending her skidding into another puddle. Her brother screamed his accusation. "You killed Gildarts!"_

_In the moments she gasped for breath, Laxus yelled it again and sent several more bolts of yellow flares down onto her. She couldn't feel anything for an unmeasured amount of time, stunned into involuntary silence, while he shouted the same phrase repeatedly. If she didn't have a goal in mind, Selika would have let her feelings go and simply let the tears flow. _

_But she couldn't—not when Levy, and eventually Laxus, could be scrutinized and investigated for magical properties that they were not supposed to possess. Properties that she had demonstrated to direct all suspicions to herself. _

_Before her brother's next attack, she drew the symbol for a shield in mid-air and instantaneously an indestructible bubble protected her from the shining outburst hailing itself on her. She smeared the blood from the slash on her cheek, and demanded that the souls of the trees surrounding them hear and obey her command. They uprooted themselves to stand behind her, her soldiers of bark and branches with hollow winds for their shrill voices. _

_And they surged towards—_

A rapid succession of knocks at the door bullied Selika's eyes to open. Like always, she momentarily relished in the thought that it was all a dream and only a dream. But the scar on her face, and the surroundings that had become familiar as of the day before reminded her that she was in a world that had become twelve years older than she was mentally prepared for. Though her body had aged into that of a twenty-nine year old, she hardly knew anything about Earth Land anymore.

She reluctantly admitted to herself that Fairy Tail would be no exception to change.

Another burst of noise made her cringe and push away the thin, moth-eaten covers of the straw-stuffed tavern bed as she stretched. Her foot knocked against the rickety night stand adjacent to the bed when she swung her fatigued legs to the floor. There hadn't even been that much extravagance for her in the prison cell she had occupied for nearly half of her life, so she didn't even notice the freezing touch of the wooden floor.

While she dressed in silence, ignoring the impatient pounding, she asked herself as to who would come to her door. The tavern keeper may have been of questionable character, but his cheap rooms had been welcomed by the few Jewels that had given to her by Rune Knights on the day of her release. She hoped that he hadn't sold her location to those who were mesmerized by the bounty that the underworld had placed on her head; something that she had done nothing to deserve.

Besides gain notoriety for murder.

Selika reached for an orange piece of cloth that wasn't among her possessions, and she remembered that the scarf she often used as a belt had remained in the house in the woods. In Magnolia—a town that would take her at least four days to reach if she wanted to go.

But she wouldn't. Being so close to Fairy Tail would be hazardous to her health, especially after what she did to Gildarts, and it would only hurt to not be as welcome as she wanted to be by her old guild. After being released by Rune Knights, she had already planned to never return—not to her sister or brother.

Not to the place her heart called _home._

She decided against opening the door, and made her way to the shambled window of her room as she slipped into a grey coat. Whomever her visitor may have been, he or she had stopped knocking for her attention. While the person may have left her alone for the moment, Selika didn't take the chance that they would come back with the set of master keys.

Lifting the window open and pushing aside a torn window screen, she ducked her head outside to check to see if the ledge would be safe enough to support her weight. She cursed when it simply crumbled beneath her touch, and hoped that no one—

She froze as she recognized a man who stood with his eyes directed at her window. "Father?"

Almost as if Ivan Dreyar had heard her, Selika watched as his face stretched into a smile that took up most of the space on the lower half of his face. The woman stepped back from the window, wondering what her father was doing in the same town as her.

"Selika, dear," his voice from behind her called. Her heart stopped as she turned to see Ivan standing in her room, draped in the same fur-lined coat that he had worn when she had first officially met him. His hand bore the Fairy Tail guild mark, almost covered by the long black sleeves of the dress shirt beneath his purple, high-collared jacket. She stared at the insignia longingly, remembering how her own had been burnt away by Rune Knights.

It was the last thought she had on her mind before everything seemed to fade.

* * *

><p>Ivan sighed as the shikigami of his daughter floated to the floor. She had always been a distracted piece of flesh, from his perspective. Forever concerned with anything to do with Fairy Tail.<p>

Unlike him.

That day when she had shown up at that idiotic guild, stating that he was her father and as such, he needed to provide her with some materialistic means of survival. He had scoffed, not believing a word that had slipped off that dratted tongue of hers —until he had seen her Solid Script, on par with the only mage of the same powers that he had ever lain in bed with in his youth.

It had been the only reason for why he had tolerated the daring chit. Now it was a shame that Selika McGarden wasn't going to be of anymore use to him, after this caper. She would have had so much potential in his guild.

"Ravens," he beckoned as he bent over to pick up the slip of paper he had turned his own child into. "It's time to make for Crocus."

* * *

><p>AN: Now what are they going in Crocus for? Hmmmmmm...

Thanks for reading...if you read it :D Don't know if anybody actually is, but if you are, I shall have the next chapter out within a week!


	3. Incoming

_**Kith and** **Kin**_

_Chapter One: Incoming_

* * *

><p><em>Three Days Later<em>

"Lev—"

"She's my sister, Jet!" His team's leader turned away from him, flinging her blue hair in his direction in a final act of rebuffing him. As she strode away, she tossed more words over shoulder. "I'm going whether you two are coming with me or not!"

The slim man beside him hesitated for only a second—a moment when he glanced nervously to his male team member—before taking off for the girl in front of them. Jet sighed and speedily caught up to them, continuing to run without effort beside the both of them. "Laxus said that it wasn't necessary to go back until at least a month—when the publicity dies down."

"Well it's changed! They're saying she killed someone!"

Droy began to state the obvious. "Well, she—"

"My sister didn't kill the _king_, Droy!" The imp of a girl had stopped to scream her firm belief at her teammate, causing him to shrink back in momentary panic. Her claim seemed to have taken more air from her lungs than she had expected, and she stopped to catch her breath. Jet and Droy halted as well, with Droy bending over to rest his hands on his knees as he breathed.

Levy sternly looked up to the both of them, and repeated a phrase that she had told everyone for years after she had healed. Jet knew that she was hoping that saying it would somehow convince the guild's anger to cease. "Twelve years ago, she did it to protect me."

"She didn't need to protect you at the royal palace in Crocus," he pointed out, adding, "_Two days ago._"

The girl took in a deep breath, her chest puffing up as oxygen filled her in preparation for a rant; she had been behaving unexpectedly ever since the news of her sister's release had spread like Natsu's flame. Before she could manage to say her piece, Droy calmly spoke in her place. "There had to be a reason for why Selika had done it, if she did it at all."

"Exactly!" Levy's head bobbed up and down in agreement, a smile widening across her mouth for the boy who seemed to share the same opinion as her. A small flare of jealousy erupted from the action, and Jet glared at Droy.

"What was the reason, then?" he asked, shooting his question toward the other boy.

The girl lost the smile immediately, and hid her gaze by staring in the direction that they had been heading towards. For a moment, he was stuck between pain and pleasure—minor agony from seeing the star-striking smile fall because of his question, and twisted pleasure from knowing that the smile hadn't stayed for Droy.

Levy started walking again as she muttered something under her breath; to Jet, it sounded like a curse. As both boys set their pace to that of hers, she finally admitted, "I don't know what was the reason for why Selly killed the king—"

"Then—"

"—but I know that Fairy Tail is where she will go if she needs us."

* * *

><p>Mirajane leaned heavily against the counter of the bar as she wondered where on Earth Land had Laxus shuffled himself away. While it had been common for the man to leave without a word before his excommunication, he had started to drop hints as to where he would disappear whenever he left his usual position at her bar.<p>

Initially she had accepted the words as mere phrases that were meant to simply indicate that he wasn't leaving the guild for good. She had graced him with only a polite nod whenever he mentioned wherever he planned to go, each time that he had stared directly into her eyes. There had been nothing special to the look, then.

But over the few months afterwards, she had felt a soft fondness from his gaze and was not ashamed to have felt a tingle of pleasure, accompanied by the soon-expected heat across her cheeks. She would miss him each time that he gave her an uncharacteristically tender look, but would be glad that she was at least granted access to some of his hidden affection.

Curiously maddening _hope_ had sprouted just from that.

Three days ago, however, that hope had slightly wilted from the curt glance that Laxus had thrown her way before stormily departing. Mira had still managed to keep that hope alive with the assurance of his being upset by the negative exposure on his family when it had been revealed that the liberated murderess Selika McGarden was the granddaughter to one of the most famed and admired guilds of Fiore.

And now his name was even more tarnished with a connection to the king's murder.

She clutched the glass mug she was meant to refill for someone—for whom, she had already forgotten—and in her controlled rage, she snapped its handle into two without letting out a breath of pain. Though the crack had been audible throughout the guild and a collective spasm shivered from each table, her smile had kept her fellow guild members unworried.

The thought of Laxus remaining unhappy because of a rash decision on his older sister's part was nearly unbearable. Levy putting on a brave face for so long was an off-putting notion also, especially after what Mira had heard of her trauma.

Mira couldn't help but lay blame at Selika's door. It had been her duty to watch over her younger siblings, protect them from whatever harm that would have had the audacity to befall on their lives—one that she had so obviously abandoned. There was still no explanation as to why she had even killed the people on that night; Levy had never been able to piece together what had happened, though she had constantly asserted her sister's innocence.

The girl was such a faithful sister that Mira had never been able to refute her, even when she could never bring herself to believe the steadfast words.

She shook her head as she mutely dropped the crushed pieces of glass in the trash when she noticed that her own sister had sidled up to the bar while she had been so jumbled in her thoughts. Her ears immediately seized Lisanna's tentative "Mira?" and her eyes centered solely on the heavenly blue of the girl's eyes.

As she looked into those circular oceans, Mira wondered just how far she would go to protect them. Perhaps if she had needed to protect something or someone as valuable as the life of someone she loved from the depths of her heart—it would only be then, that Mira would go so far as murder. For a moment, she thought she knew Selika's reasoning but the thought slipped out of her mind within the next second.

She made a small inquiring noise from the bottom of her throat and raised her eyebrows to question Lisanna's call. While the two of them exchanged dialogue, with Pantherlily eventually joining in as well, the nineteen-year-old studied and memorized the lines of her sister's face. As she became withdrawn from conversation, Mira's gaze drifted to her younger brother, and she unconsciously did the same with her every rough, strong edge of his face.

She wondered if she would ever need to depend on her powers of recollection, just to know her siblings' faces if her eyes were forever confined to the darkness of a prison cell.

Mira shook off the morbid thought, preferring to watch her siblings just for the sake of the moment. She decided it would be a moment worth remembering for the rest of her life, however insignificant the events within it.

But the moment seemed to take a turn for the worse as the guild doors opened.

* * *

><p>"Does Gajeel miss Levy?" Juvia knowingly asked, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she walked alongside him to the guild. She had rapped on his door earlier in the day because Lily had thought it was necessary to provide Gajeel with one love-sick water freak as his alarm clock, ever since Levy had spontaneously taken a hike with Shadow Gear.<p>

Before he could reply, Gajeel was cut off by the loudness that was Natsu's voice. "Of course!" The young man's hair was as unkempt as ever as he strolled alongside the much taller man, but it seemed as though the blonde woman beside him had some part in wild directions that the strands faced.

Lucy giggled, and poked Natsu to communicate that Gajeel shouldn't be bothered, although her smile proved her humor at his expense. She dispelled it, however, as she spoke to him directly. "She'll be back soo—"

"I'm not waiting for Shrimp to come—"

Natsu laughed and readily told the man, "Oh yes you are," cracking away at the implication. Gajeel refused to acknowledge the burn on his face, which deepened as Lucy reminded them, with an emphasis on certain words, that Gajeel and Levy weren't _yet_ in an intimate relationship. He didn't even know if there was going to be a relationship, with her two puppies following her all over the place.

"So," Juvia began with a short pause in between her steps, "when is Gajeel going to ask—"

"Shut up Juvia," he growled with a little more force than he intended, but the rain woman had no qualms with his tone; she went as far as giving him as wide of a smile as Lucy's.

He was about to snap at Juvia again, but the crashing ruckus within Fairy Tail took his attention away from the process. Though it wouldn't have been unusual for their guild to be loud, an unnatural scream ripping through the air to their ears, from the building, was something that didn't happen often—unless Natsu had a part in it.

But the particular dragon slayer stood beside him and the guild was yards away; there was no doubt in any one of the four mages' minds that something had gone wrong as they all tensed in their steps.

An idea that had been supported in the next second, when an easily recognized silver-haired female was tossed outside. Mirajane's demonic form appeared battered and broken, but she still managed to raise and launch herself back through the guild's doors. The four mages were already running to aid her, and were shocked to see the S-class hurled back out once again, landing with a great and final thud against the opposite building in the street.

As Juvia and Lucy immediately went to regain the bleeding woman, Natsu and Gajeel rushed without a thought into the guild. A rush of wind went over their heads as the both of them ducked, realizing that a beam of something had attempted to knock them out.

And was swinging back in their direction, preparing to land on top of Natsu.

Gajeel reached for other man to pull him away, but he was stopped by the sensation of something coiling itself around his legs, catching and keeping him in place. He yelled for Natsu to move, but he noticed that the pink-haired man was struggling against growing restraints as well.

Just as they believed that the man was about to be hit, the beam faltered in its attack and crashed to the floor beside them—a near miss.

The resounding echoes of its fall bounced around as dust rose from the deep cracks of the flooring. It wasn't until the sooty fog cleared nearby, that Gajeel realized that the material that had wound around him was simply _wood_, torn up from the floorboards that were laid over the foundation and basement of the guild.

As he pried himself apart from the flooring, Gajeel noticed that Natsu had already burned some of the wood surrounding him; his eyes glowed as they focused on something in an area where the dust hadn't cleared.

A woman stood there, gripping the right side of her body tightly with her left hand. She seemed to want to move towards them, yet Gajeel almost couldn't believe the fear in her eyes—as though it would be unfavorable for her, if she even lifted a finger at them.

The three of them merely stood there, frozen as if they knew nothing besides how to stand so motionlessly that it felt as though none of them were breathing.

Of course, when Gajeel wondered as to where everyone was, his heart nearly stopped as he heard a crunch from beneath him. He had stepped on two of a face-down Gray's fingers, and his mind humorously panicked at the thought of Juvia murdering him for daring to touch the man.

That humor sobered immediately, however, as he saw that strewn across the guild floor were his guild mates in varying degrees of injury although no one seemed like they were dead. He hoped that the stillness of their bodies only meant that they were unconscious, ready to awaken after a night in the infirmary or at Porlyusica's.

If _they_ weren't unconscious, Gajeel would make sure that the person responsible would share the same fate.

And all reasons pointed toward the stranger before him.

Natsu appeared to have the same thought as he demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

There was no reply as the woman remained tight-lipped in what seemed like pain, rather than a refusal to speak to them. Her mouth would open and close, with something alike to an effort in speech, but her voice failed to produce an answer to the question.

"Selika." The name hadn't come from her mouth, but from the gravelly pitch of their master. Makarov stood outside, at the double doors with Juvia and Lucy behind him as Mirajane's arms were around their shoulders. He gestured for her to exit the guild with a pointedly raised hand towards the outside of the building.

The woman's eyes visibly darkened as her gaze landed on Master. Her grip tightened on herself but this time she moved effortlessly to the patiently waiting man. As she reached him, Gajeel watched as Makarov took in the extent of the woman's injuries before ushering her away into the crowd of spectators that had built up around the guild.

The man only granted Natsu and Gajeel a nod for their stunned states, and issued an order for Wendy to be called into action.

* * *

><p>If it hadn't been Master speaking, Gildarts would have never answered the communication lacrima in the middle of the afternoon—or any time of day in which someone wanted to speak with him.<p>

He no longer had _anyone _he wanted to speak with; regard for his guild master had been the only basis for which he actually reached out for his cloak and tapped the crystalline sphere to accept the call. He sat up in the latest bed he had found with someone else, barely self-conscious of his bared chest when Makarov's face appeared in the ball.

They both exchanged noiseless greetings in the form of short but minutely perceptible nods before Master asked, "Where are you?"

"Not in Magnolia," he told the man, knowing that while it wasn't the answer Makarov wanted to hear, it was one that he was willing to accept. His senior pursed his mouth, hidden by an untrimmed set of hairs above his lip but seen in the way his cheeks pulled taut. There was a moment of silence while the man waited for a proper answer, followed by a sigh as he realized that he wouldn't be getting one.

Not from him.

"Come to the guild," Makarov ordered in a quiet voice, and before Gildarts could ask _what for_, he added, "It's necessary."

"For—"

"_Gildarts_," the man silenced. "There was once a time when you wouldn't have hesitated when those words were spoken."

"Times have changed."

The man on the other end muttered something akin to "So I see" but Gildarts couldn't be sure. At least not when the female beside him turned in her sleep and gifted him with a nice view of her—_  
><em>

"She's here."

It didn't take but a millisecond, as the words touched his brain, for Gildarts to tear his gaze away from the distraction with a clenched jaw and an eruption of memories. Memories that included his praying that he wouldn't drown in one of the elements he hadn't ever succeeded in breaking apart without it coming back to fill his lungs.

He supposed that was the reason for why Selika had known to push him into that river. She had seen him struggling in water before, in a time when they were still doing missions near oceans and lakes.

And it was the reason for why he peeled the covers from off his body and began to pull on his pants while he stood up. "When did she arrive?" he harshly asked as he belted his pants and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders.

"Hours ago," Makarov told him with his face turned for the sake of whatever modesty that he still believed in. "She'll need your help in re—"

"The help she needs can be found in the place she came from!" Gildarts spat. "_Prison!_"

"You haven't read the news in a while, have you?

"What does the daily paper—"

"They're saying she killed the king, Gildarts," came the sharp reply with a lengthy exhale. When Gildarts finally _waited_ for the man to continue, Makarov told him, "If you had children, you would understand that wish to protect them at any cost to yourself."

"Ivan was your son."

"Ivan _is_ my son," Makarov somberly said, "and Selika and Laxus will always be my grandchildren. Therefore I ask you to come to the guild to—"_  
><em>

Gildarts disconnected the lacrima before the guild master could finish his sentence. He left the magic-infused item on the nightstand of whomever had been sleeping beside him in the night, knowing that the guild master would call once again.

With a request that Gildarts had no heart to honor.

* * *

><p>Makarov cursed the stubbornness of the man who had isolated himself far from the guild. He had no doubt that Gildarts would return as fast as he was able, but for what purpose? The man hadn't seemed as though he had been glad to know that the girl whom he had once called a friend had returned to Fairy Tail as a grown woman, convicted of several murders and now wanted for another.<p>

He knew that it was doubtful that Gildarts would ever forgive Selika for nearly killing him, even though Makarov was certain that there had to be reason for it. The both of them had been so close, and his granddaughter had never been one to actually go so far as to hurt someone in such a torturous fashion. At the time, Makarov would have certainly believed that she wouldn't have ever hurt her partner.

But then she had broken his expectations and pushed the man into a river.

Through the open window of Porlyusica's house, Makarov watched as Selika shrugged off her cloak and partially lift her shirt, revealing pallid skin that appeared to have never seen the sun. At the sight of black and purple splotches, the man looked away. Rage simmered through him at the thought of how his granddaughter received the bruises. He felt even worse as he realized that due to the amount of time she spent in prison, there would undoubtedly be more than he wished to count.

As her grandfather, he wanted to lay his hands on the people who had dared to lay their hands upon Selika, but as the one who had guiltily permitted the Rune Knights to remove her guild mark, he simultaneously directed his rage towards himself.

Makarov re-quipped the lacrima in his hands, storing it elsewhere, and navigated the steps of Porlyusica's tree to enter the neatly organized space of a home. He waited with a pause on the other side of a white sheet hung to give Selika some privacy. There had been an understanding that the healer had wanted to give, at the very least, a quick physical examination of her patient. "Fairy Tail is not an enemy guild to you."

"I can't trust anyone, grandfather," she replied through the screen. "Not you, not even Porlyusica here." The mentioned woman grunted and a soft, pained gasp told Makarov that some form of pain had been instigated. By their silhouettes, he judged that the healer had stuck a needle into Selika's arm.

"You came to Fairy Tail," he reminded her, "therefore you must have at least a modicum of faith in its members."

"I didn't come here because of faith." He heard the light noise the clasp of shorts being undone and the rustling of cloth sliding against skin. "I came in search of someone."

"That is no reason to destroy the guild."

"That was an accident!" The burst of words was accompanied by a hiss of pain as Porlyusica purposefully rubbed a waxy solution against Selika's back before handing a jar of the stuff to the woman to apply by herself.

"Mirajane wouldn't see it as just an accident."

She was silent at that; the only noise from behind the curtain was that of his granddaughter furiously kneading ointment into her skin. There were no more peals of protest as Porlyusica's mixture healed in a tormentingly discomforting fashion. Quietly, Selika asked, "Was that her name?"

Porlyusica pushed back the divider, revealing both her grim self and Selika as she sat on a tree stump with her brown cloak draped around her bared shoulders. He conceded a nod that he just knew that she saw, even though she didn't look into his face.

"Ever since that night, there have been times when my magic flares at random times," she began, controlling the way she started to shake by biting on her lip. Her head remained bowed, her eyes directed to the floor. "It never happens when I'm alone, only when I'm threatened or injured." She voluntarily raised her wounded arm, wincing as she did so, to show gesture towards it. "That girl—Mirajane—demanded that I leave them all alone, and when she released just an _aura_ of her magic—" Selika broke off, not wanting to continue the description.

"Your magic attacked," Porlyusica filled in for her. The younger woman nodded in affirmation. The healer, however, looked to him and shook her head in wonder. "I've never heard of a magic that would protect its user without the user's control."

"Neither have I," Makarov returned. He nodded his chin towards Selika. "What of the others?"

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, and she shook her head in remembrance. "They started to defend the girl and themselves."

"Has this happened often?" Porlyusica questioned, a furrow in her brow.

Selika stared down at her hands which she rubbed over each other repeatedly. "When I was still in the shared cells, five of the inmates died on the first day. The other two didn't raise a finger or a voice against me for the remainder of the time I was in their same cell.

"After the bodies of the first five were removed from the cell, other prisoners figured that it had something to do with me. Some would be brave enough to corner me whenever rotations were made, itching for a chance to test my magic against their own. They would always be the ones to come away disfigured or as corpses." She paused for a breath before she said, "Twenty people died and fifteen were...injured...before the Rune Knights understood that I was the source of their problem."

"That's not unusual," Porlyusica muttered under her breath, "the Rune Knights are obvious _fools_."

"Wouldn't they have added to your sentence?" Makarov asked, adding for further inquiry, "For misconduct and behavioral issues?"

His granddaughter smoothed down the length of bandage wrapped around her waist with the hand of her good arm, refusing to look up at him. "To them, I was doing a favor to the world, in reducing the number of criminals."

Porlyusica, seething, inquired, "Was no one watching the inmate registry?"

"There isn't one," Selika replied. "At least not when I left."

There was a stop in conversation before she continued, responding to an unanswered question hanging in the air. "They gave no reason for why I was released, and I didn't stay to find out."

It seemed as though there was more to say, but Porlyusica interrupted the moment for Selika to speak as she said, "I can't do anything about the scar on your chest, but everything else looks to be in order."

"Scar?" Makarov inquired, further intrigued by the shadow that crossed the old woman's face as he turned to look at him. There was a sense of sadness that followed her gaze as she shifted, pulling the collar of her shirt down to expose part of the flesh above her heart.

A recent brand, the size of the palm of her hand, marred the smooth surface of the woman's skin. Its pattern trailed across her chest with flesh-colored puckers that rose and fell to form the incoherent shape of a raven. After a few moments when Makarov had been staring at the burned tissue, Selika asked, "Where is my—" She hesitated, and in her hesitation her expression grew dark.

"Where is Ivan?" he offered, unable to give another, for it was undoubtedly the question that his granddaughter had wanted to ask. It must been the reason for why she had dared to forge her way through to the guild in the first place. "Excommunicated."

In the corner of his eye, he noticed that Porlyusica's eyes had widened in surprise before she turned towards his granddaughter. She whispered incredulously, "Your _father_ did this to you?"

"Is there anyone else?" Selika asked in a voice laced with scorn as she looked pointedly towards Makarov. "The bastard had the guild symbol on his hand, grandfather. Excommunication would have erased that."

"And it did, I can assure you." He looked away from the condemnation in his granddaughter's eyes as they remembered that her own mark had been disposed of by Rune Knights. "I forced him to leave in the same year that you were arrested."

"For what?"

Porlyusica answered in his place, crossing her arms as she spoke. "For trying to bring you back."

The younger woman froze, then straightened on her stool, eyes towards the floor. "Why? Why would he—"

"We don't know for sure," he told her, "but it would be possible that your magic was the motivation." He hated to be reminded, as always, that there would have been nothing else to incite Ivan's fatherly interest in his children.

Selika was silent after that; the expression of her face betraying none of her thoughts. Makarov knew, however, that his grandchild was mulling over the information of her father's excommunication if the way she held herself was the same as it had been twelve years before.

With a glance, Porlyusica requested to speak to him outside and the man willingly followed. As the door shut behind him, the woman he had known all his life stated, "It won't be safe for her to stay here."

"There's no other place for her," he replied. He looked straight into her eyes as he added in a softer voice, "She's my granddaughter." With that he asked, "How is her condition?"

Porlyusica hesitated, before reluctantly saying, "Bruises _everywhere_, Makarov, and lacerations to match. I doubt that much of her was spared, and..."

"And what?" There was something particularly upsetting in the way that the woman before him sighed and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. He reiterated, "What is it?"

"The guild mark...wasn't properly removed in the way that we do it." She closed her eyes as she told him, "They burned it with magic, just as Ivan did with his brand."

Makarov's gaze fixed onto Porlyusica's face at the words. There was no untruth in her expression, and something akin to guilt slid through him. He choked, "I let the Rune Knights—"

"No!" She instantly interrupted, gripping the shorter man's shoulders. "You didn't know."

"But—"

"It wasn't your fault, Makarov," she endorsed, "so don't blame yourself for what you didn't know."

As the words settled between them, Porlyusica stood over him; her hands remained on his shoulders in steadying comfort. She informed him, to draw his attention away from the past to the present, "I need to go to the guild now. I've already sent supplies to Wendy, and she should have covered most of the injured but I—"

"Yes," he said. "Go."

With a rise of her hand, her broom flew to her; she caught it between her fingers without difficulty. Before she turned away to reach the guild, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder to ask,"If Selika is to remain with us, then what do you think would keep her magic from attacking Fairy Tail?"

Makarov looked back into the house, noticing that his granddaughter's eyes were still cast downwards. It had been years that he had seen her face and though he had expected something to change, there seemed to be nothing different about her—other than her shorn hair and branded skin. In his eyes, Selika McGarden looked like the same seventeen-year-old girl who would have done anything to keep her blood or bond related family, safe.

But he had to be honest with himself. Selika was now an angered twenty-nine-year-old woman who was already labeled dangerous to the country. The few who were in the guild and remembered her, were already in beliefs that the girl they knew had changed to become a violent stranger. Neither Selika nor his guild's members seemed to know each other, and he hated to admit that perhaps he too, didn't understand his own granddaughter.

Which was why he said, "Nothing."

And wondered if that response as the truth.

* * *

><p>AN: I forgot to mention that this is set before Tenrou, which means before Ivan/Alexei is revealed and before Gildarts finds out that Cana is his kid, and all the hell-ish stuff going on right now. If you don't know what I'm talking about...I shall give you Face and hope that you catch up to Hiro Mashima's Fairy Tail!

And I am really, really, really, REALLY xInfinity, sorry about saying that I would publish on Fridays and then not even coming up with anything for like three weeks. My life is crap right now and I'm not really sure how to make it into something not as bad.


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